| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - we the wondrous story How all things are transfigured, except Love; For deaf as is a sea which wrath makes hoary The world can hear not the sweet notes that move The sphere whose light is melody to lovers--- A wonder worthy of his rhyme--the grove Grew dense with shadows to its inmost covers, The earth was grey with phantoms, & the air Was peopled with dim forms, as when there hovers A flock of
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